Those dastardly heavy-breathing sneakabouts in Indianapolis are at it again! First, they steal the Colts from Baltimore. Now, because of an injury to Adam Nougatieri (injuries don’t make chompions, Adam) they have signed Greatest Raven Ever Matt Stover. Is there nothing they won’t take from Baltimore? I mean, other than black people. Those Indy can do without.
This afternoon we have another edition of the sporadic “Inside a Tailgate” series. It’s a feature that gives you insight into some of the goings-on with fans around the league. And it gives us a chance to count a YouTube video as a post. Nice.
00:01 – Chubs tells “Reggie Wane” that he will handle the introduction duties. I’ve just seen this guy, but I have always been able to make snap judgments about people. I predict this guy will open his introduction with some Proust before making a dry self-deprecating observation on the human condition. That, or quoting Stone Cold Steve Austin. It could go either way.
0:03 – Hitch up you sweatpants, Bulbous Fett.
0:08 – Waiting for his cue… Biscuits ‘n’ Gravy here is used to working with professionals. Give his ass a countdown, you clod.
0:10 – “HEY! WE’RE COLTS FANS!” This is your brilliant introduction? This is the least expository introduction in the history of introducing stuff. Christ, this thing is already going downhill.
0:16 – Now he introduces Shawne Merriman, “defensive player for the Chargers”. Dude, if we don’t already know who he is, your impression is kind of pointless.
0:20 – This guy seems to shortchanging Merriman’s surname by a full syllable– pronouncing it ‘Merman’. It seems they fear this Mer-Man and thinks he intends to drag them before King Poseidon and his briny palace in Atlantis.
0:24 – Two days later, he moaned and flopped in precisely the same manner when the EMT administered the defibrillator.
0:31 – “RETARD….OUT!” He says it like that’s his end communication signal.
0:36 – At first I thought it was a novelty helmet, merely festooning his head whimsically before the big game. I know realize he is living with a serious head injury and that thing is a medical necessity under doctor’s orders.
It’s that time of year again, when we’re so devoid of content that, rather than spending time covering Romo dumping Jessica Simpson the night before her birthday, we run through our predictably inaccurate prognostications for the upcoming year, division by division. Up first, it’s the AFC South, where you’re either winning, you’re mourning Steve McNair or you’re getting busy freebasing.
A be-poloed lad at a Chargers-Colts tailgate has a bit of a problem holding his booze after taking a beer bong hit and goes headfirst into a nearby grill. But marvel at the way a drinking calamity brings out the frenzied best in rival fans, even if that means a cacophony of unhelpful commands. I especially like the suggestion that someone give up the Mandible Claw to induce vomiting. Bonus irony points for “Wrong Way” blasting in the background as the fail plays out.
Marmalard strives to end Tony Dungy’s career a week after ousting Leatherface from Denver. Can San Diego take two games in San Diego in one year? Quite possibly, but Rivers floaters, Tiny Pocket Darren and a barely existent defense stand in their path.
Better win, Indy, or Pey-Pey’s gonna have to yell at some linemen like the true unselfish leader he is.
(more…)
Two teams hanging on the fringes of playoff possibility (and the Chargers only because they play in the AFC West) meet for the first time since the Volektricity memorably backed up Marmalard’s vicious taunts of Indy fans in what was the final game ever in the RCA Dome. Now the Colts can effectively end the Chargers season and do a big favor to their own Wild Card aspirations with another road victory over an AFC rival.
But who gives a shit? We demand more cheerleader goodness, NBC. You were so good about it when New England was in town. If I have to deal with the sulking expressions of Dungy, Norval and Pey-Pey with no cheerleader chaser, so help me I’ll switch over to Dexter. I’ll do it! I mean it!
“Yo, this is Joe. Just heard you’re headed back to Naptown. Congratulations, man. We’re going to win another Super Bowl this year, man. But check this, I’m not a rookie like when you left. In fact, up in this bitch here, I am what you call an authority figure. Remember that corner couch at the complex– the one you used to be snoring on and shit between two-a-days? That’s my couch now. Keep your ass off. See how you like trying to sleep in a damn chair. Anyway, see you in a couple months and we will tear it up like the old days.
Oh yeah, and if you ever drink my grape Gatorade again, I’ll beat your ass. TOPPA THE FOOD CHAIN, MOTHERFUCKER!!!”
I have a friend in Indianapolis, and we were discussing the oddities of Tony Dungy’s reluctant return to coach the Colts in 2008. I think “reluctant” is a fair characterization after Bob Irsay installed a slew of unique perks into Dungy’s deal, in terms of time away from the team. As incentive to return, Dungy was granted permission to spend four months in Tampa during the offseason, plus Friday nights during the season to watch his son play high school ball. You know, the one that didn’t kill himself.
My friend, who we’ll call “Jamie,” she and I agreed to as much when she brought the following to my attention (emphasis mine):
I can only imagine [Dungy] wanted to walk – quickly. But we have a new stadium to fill around these parts, and I can’t imagine they were going to let him go prior to its opening season. I do expect him to be gone immediately following. Assuming the thing is completed by the time the season starts. They are WAY behind. I was talking to our former city attorney (our mayor was ousted, so he goes too) on Monday, and he said the roof [is] set wrong. Small detail of a design flaw, so the roof physically will not open or close. Along with a laundry list of other problems, I’d be willing to bet not a single preseason game is played there. Who says we don’t know what we’re doing around here?
To be fair, Jamie can’t bet for shit, but that doesn’t ncessarily discount her inside information. Besides, it’s only 1986 in Indianapolis right now, so they still have 22 years to finish everything on time.
It’s game one of Manning Sunday featuring that older accomplished pitchman brother, Pey-Pey. He can sell you the coat off your own back at twice value. In fact, he keeps a collection of knockoff Rolexes under his jersey if you’re looking for one.
The Chargers have won their last two against Indy, including the Nov. 11 regular season contest, in which Pey-Pey famously sold the defense a whopping six beachfront interceptions and Adam Vinatieri botched a chip shot that cost them the game. What will take to get that guy to stop choking?
Not having to rely this time on Craphonso Thorpe at wideout, the Colts will have certainly more reliable, if less hilariously named, receivers this time around. Meanwhile, the roof of the RCA Dome may be opened because no one enclosure can contain the doucheiness that is Marmalard.
You guys know that everything I write in Always Be Covering is a joke, right?
You couldn’t really expect me to live up to that guarantee, could you?
Ah shit, this is going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
This morning I woke up determined to get the month off on the right foot, but Daniel Day Lewis said that was cheating. Fucking lefty. This might be even more difficult than I imagined. Thank god I’m not dating Marla the virgin (although I won’t be seeing my girlfriend for a full week…so Saturday and Sunday at Deadspin might be a bit tense).
Although I’m just over 12 hours in to the longest month of my life noticeable changes are already beginning to emerge. For instance, the blindness that has afflicted me since puberty has finally ceased. I can see the light, and it burns! Best of all I can finally get rid of my anti-semitic guide dog, Peaches.
Oops, I think I almost cheated by accident.
So begins my thirtyone day odyssey. Of course none of this would be happening if the best kicker in the history of kicking pointed prolate spheroids hadn’t missed the easiest field goal of all time. But it only came down to that because Peyton couldn’t stop throwing it to the San Diego defense, and don’t tell me things would be much different if MarHar and Dallas played. No, the only possible explanation for this perfect storm of chokeration is…ME!
It should be obvious to anyone paying attention that Viniateri and Manning are to members of a conspiratorial organization that’s hell-bent on bringing down The Maj. Other members include Tom Brady, Bill Belichick, and of course, the Colonel (you can’t have a Pentavirate without five members).
Or perhaps I truly am the world’s greatest jinx…fortunately I have plenty of free time in the next thirty days to launch a full investigation. And of course, plenty of free time to keep you readers apprised of my progress.
I’m already feeling a bit backed up. If Jessica Alba appears naked on the internet in the next 30 days my testes will blow like the Hindenburg…and it’ll be totally worth it!
and now, just because…
*credit to D.C. Benny
